


Soul of a Man

by suchselfishprayers



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Father/Son Incest, I will warn about it ahead of time, M/M, Morally Ambiguous Character, Multi, Slow Burn, The Rick/Carl relationship will be start in later chapters, questionable morals
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-17
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-05-25 20:26:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6208909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suchselfishprayers/pseuds/suchselfishprayers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the fall of the farm Hershel urges Rick to take Carl to a safe place and he'll wait for the others. Rick hesitates but eventually is convinced and takes Carl away promising Hershel they will meet up soon. </p><p>Things don't quite work out that way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to work on this one for a while but I've been preoccupied with my omegaverse fics so here it is. I have no idea how long it'll take me to get the chapters out but I'll try to not drag it out. All mistakes are my own and I have no beta so be warned other than that enjoy!

_Well I read the Bible often_  
_I tried to read it right_  
_As far as I can understand_  
_It's nothing but a burning light_  
_God, I want somebody to tell me_  
_Why don't you answer me if you can_  
_I want somebody to tell me_  
_Tell me what is the soul of a man_  
\- _Soul of a Man_ Blind Willie Johnson

 

“ _You got a weak boy_.”

Shane’s cruel whisper vibrated over and over again through the forest of anxieties in Rick’s head. He maneuvered Hershel’s suburban around the maze of immobile cars on the highway towards the group’s original meeting spot.

The original note for Sophia was faded standing as an eerie monument to his failure to save the young girl. Rick scanned the horizon looking for any sign of the other survivors but the area was devoid of any movement even walkers.

Carl tore out of the backseat turning every way with frantic eyes, “Wait, where’s mom?”

His voice was so small and thin in its desperation that it made Rick ache. Carl’s pale eyes looked up at him pleading.

“You said she’d be here,” The air was thick with the teen’s accusation and Rick was at a loss to find the right response.

“W…we gotta go back for her,” Carl demanded. _You got a weak boy_ …

Rick’s visible hesitation only riled the teen further. “Carl…”

“No! Why are we running? What are you doing? It’s…it’s Mom,” Carl’s voice cracked as it became higher and louder with hysteria. “We need to get her and not be safe a smile away!”

Worried that his son’s voice would attract roamers, Rick clutched at Carl’s shoulder, the thin muscle trembling under his fingers.

“Shhh! You need to be quiet, all right? Please.”

Carl ducked his head, his chest heaving as he tried to calm himself. Rick let his gaze travel down to the bright ruby blood that marred his son’s pale neck. The urge to wipe the bloodstain from his child rose so swiftly it made his head spin.

“Please…” The plead was faint and brimming with anguish, “It’s mom.”

“Look, Carl, listen…” Rick tried to swallow the reluctance in his voice, there was no way they could risk going back to the farm. He had glanced in the rear-view mirror and could only see a vast wave upon wave of lumbering corpses dotting the once picturesque farmland.

As if reflecting his own thoughts, Rick watched Hershel’s lips pull tight.

“Look, Carl, listen…”

“ _No_!” Carl wrenched his shoulder free and stomped towards the end of the car to lean against the trunk. Rick moved to follow him, unwilling to let his son out of arm’s length but Hershel moved to block his way.

“Rick, you’ve got to get your boy to safety,” Hershel’s face was lined with resignation, shotgun tucked under his left arm. “I’ll wait here for my girls and the others. I know a few places. We’ll meet up at one of them later.”

 _How can he be sure his girls survived_?

Studying the older man, Rick could see that Hershel wasn’t positive that his daughters had survived but he hoped.

 _Are you willing to take that chance_?

“Where?” Rick spat, “Where’s safe? We’re not splitting up.”

“Please, keep your boy safe.” God how those words pierced down to Rick’s bones. Shane’s voice was still there a deep infecting echo. Angered that perhaps Hershel thought Rick couldn’t keep them both safe, he snapped back, “We stick together!”

Rick paced along the space in-between the cars, every passing minute becoming weighed with more despair and desperation. It was only a matter of time before a walker shuffled towards them.

With frantic motions he pulled Carl and Hershel behind the suburban and Rick unholstered his gun. Crouching behind the car they held their breath as it stumbled past them.

“I don’t know how much longer we can stay here,” Rick admitted. It was one now but in the distance he could see a few more heading in their direction.

 “I…” Carl’s eyes lit with growing tears, “I’m not leaving without Mom.”

 _God, I don’t know what to do_.

It wouldn’t take much longer for the herd to catch up with them. They couldn’t afford to wait much longer, yet Rick continued to hesitate.

Hershel’s eyes were thick with weary acceptance, “You’ve got only one concern now…Just one…keeping him alive.” The older man twisted his hands around his shotgun as he continued, “Nature may be throwing us a curveball, but that law is still true.”

Rick pinched at the skin between his eyes. _You got a weak boy_. He was backed into a corner but even the rational parts of his mind knew that there was no other option. With an air of finality he knelt to be face level with his son.

Carl shuffled his feet, a look of exhausted sufferance that made the teen appear older than he was.

“Carl, it’s not safe here.”

His son’s narrow chest began to surge as tears gathered in the corner of his eyes. “I can’t leave mom,” Carl whimpered.

“I know but Carl…I have to make sure you’re safe. After all of that…” _After what happened with Shane_ , “It would kill me if something happened to you that I could have prevented. _Please_ , we’ll meet up with them again. I promise.”

Carl’s head bent so low that it disappeared under the brim of his hat, a heavy sigh escaped his lips and Rick couldn’t take it, couldn’t stand seeing the tremor in Carl’s hands. Cupping the baby soft cheeks he brought Carl’s face up to look meet his gaze, his thumbs gently stroking at the falling tears.

“You promise?”

“I swear on my life,” Rick put all the conviction he could behind those words. _I swear it_ …

“Okay,” His son’s response was barely a whisper.

“Take my car and go down the road for about ten miles. You’ll see a sign for an old plantation home that was turned into a museum, follow the directions to it. It’s been a while since we’ve been down there but I’m willing to bet that it’ll be empty. Once I meet up with the others I’ll meet you there as soon as we can.”

Now for the important question, “How long should we wait for you?”

“At least a day, maybe two if you can find supplies,” Hershel walked Rick and Carl to the car.

“Are you sure you’re gonna be alright? Rick squeezed Hershel’s shoulder with his right hand.

“I’ll do my best. Nothing’s guaranteed anymore. I’ll rest better though knowing you and Carl are on your way to a safe place.”

Nodding, Rick opened the passenger door for Carl who gave Hershel a quick hug before he climbed in. As he started the car, Rick made sure to memorize every wrinkle on the former preacher’s face. He had become a good friend in such a short time and Rick felt wretched to leave him behind on his own. He couldn’t continue to try and talk him out of it though since Rick could understand the sacrifice the older man was making.

The run-down suburban rumbled beneath them as Rick navigated out of the wrecked cars. Carl’s hands lay on his lap, fingers wringing together in nervous twists as they finally hit clear road and started out.

Rick couldn’t help but reach out his right hand to grasp both of Carl’s smaller hands in his.

“It’s going to be okay.”

“You don’t know that for sure,” Carl responded softly. That was the reaction of a child who had seen hell and it made Rick ache that he hadn’t been able to shield him from the worst of it.

“I’m going to _make_ it be okay. I promise.”

 _And this is one promise I intend to keep_ , Rick swore to himself.

~

Hershel tried to keep track of time but no longer had his pocket watch and neglected his wristwatch that morning. Situated in the driver’s seat of one of the unlocked cars, he would duck down when a walker passed then sit back up to keep watch for the others. As the time passed he sat in silence waiting, hoping, and most of all praying. There was no sign of the others and the light was swiftly turning gray.

“Lord, I beg of you. Please let my children still be alive. Please lead them to me so that I may hold them in my arms one more time,” His litanies were soft but fervent. He could only hope that God was listening.

A noise startled him. He shifted the shotgun, prepared to shoot but instead caught sight of something larger than a walker moving towards. Nothing could reach the mammoth wave of joy he felt when he realized what it was.

Two cars and a motorcycle wound their way through the path of cars and Hershel darted out of the car, uncaring that there may be danger nearby. Soon his arms were full with the arm sharking bodies of Maggie and Beth squeezing him tightly, sobbing in their relief.

Taking stock of the dirty weary people he could see, Hershel could see they were missing people.

“Patricia?” He asked.

“They tore her from my arms,” Beth wept and Hershel cradled her against him to rub her back.

“Have you seen Rick and Carl?” Lori strode up to him with panic glimmering in her eyes. She looked around but saw no traces of her husband and son.

“Yes, they’re alright,” Lori’s shoulders sank as the tension released, “They were with me earlier. I sent them ahead to safe place while I waited for you.”

“You sent them on their own?” Hershel couldn’t help but recoil as Lori turned angry eyes at full attention to him. Reminded of his first meeting with her, he did his best to soothe her.

“Yes,” He continued, “Apparently Shane didn’t make it and both Rick and Carl witnessed it. They were both pretty shook up though they didn’t tell me exactly what happened. I sent them to the old Honey Mill Plantation. It’s a museum so it should be mostly clear of walkers.”

“Then what are waiting for?” Daryl cut in. He had been pacing the entire conversation, eyes watching both horizons for the inevitable sight of roamers. “Let’s go!”

Hershel joined the lead car with Glenn, Maggie, and Beth. Beth clung to him trembling and sniffling and he did his best to provide her with the solace she needed to eventually calm down.

“Make a right here,” Maggie directed Glenn. His eldest daughter appeared to be holding together fairly well but it didn’t escape his notice that her eyes would often stay on Glenn. Hershel was thankful that the two were building what looked like a meaningful relationship.

The road melted from highway to a plain two-lane country road. They were nearly there when Hershel saw something in the distance. Maggie must have seen it too and even from where he sat Hershel was sure her look of horror matched his.

“Stop the car!”

“What?” Glenn jumped, his eyes widening at the sight of a group of walkers hovering around a car.

“Just do it!” Hershel ordered. “I think that’s my car.”

“The car…you sent Rick and Carl off in?” Maggie gasped.

Glenn cursed and pulled to the side of the road a bit before the crashed car. The walkers, upon hearing their cars, turned and began to trudge towards them. Daryl, seeing the walkers, pulled over in his motorcycle and shot one right off.

Thankfully they still had bullets and were able to take down the walkers. The second car pulled up and everyone else climbed out.

“It was T-Dog who asked first, “Why the hell are we stopping?”

Hershel, too frantic to speak, ran around the car to find the driver’s door flung open but there was no one there. Lori ran up behind panic painting her face.

“Hershel, what is going on?” She cried.

“Lori,” He sighed, “I’m so _sorry_.” His voice cracked even with his attempts to keep it steady. “This is my truck. I gave it to Rick and Carl to get to the museum.”

“Oh my god,” Lori sucked in a harsh breath, her hands flying to cover her mouth. She turned to the truck that was crunched against a tree. The bodies of two walkers were scattered with splattered guts on the tires. The passenger door window was shattered splatters of blood and gore littered the seats but whether it was fresh or rotter blood no one could tell.

Lori, face pale, opened the passenger door staring as if she could make her husband and son magical appear. After a second she stepped back and let out a whine.

“No…oh god…no,” Her legs shook and she nearly collapsed but Carol had reached out to put her arms around to steady her. Everyone else was silent, the only sound was wind rustling their clothes. Their stupor was broken as Daryl strode up sharp eyes darting on the ground and the wreckage.

“They ran over the walker bodies but they got managed to get away,” The hunter explained. “Don’t know how they didn’t see them coming…” Daryl bent to get a better look at an indent on the ground.

“It looks like Rick came around and then he and Carl left together on foot into the trees.”

“Can you track them?” Lori ripped out Carol’s arms to approach him. The light though was swiftly turning into a dark gold as the sun began to sink into the trees so the hunter pulled out a flashlight and began to step into the woods.

“Wait, Daryl,” Lori ordered, “We should go with you just in case. We shouldn’t separate again for any reason.” Her eyes, hard and ark, flashed bitter towards Hershel. The older man could sigh but Maggie, not liking Lori’s tone, shuffled to stand in front of her father.

Daryl had only gone a short ways into the trees when he paused and called out, “I think I got something here.”

He brushed aside some leaves under a bush and pulled out a piece of cloth which was torn and splashed with blood. A hand suddenly shot out and grabbed Daryl’s wrist. T-Dog, who had been following, struck the growling corpse with his knife.

“Thanks,” Daryl gulped as he ripped the jacket out of the grasp of the walker. A decrypted hand had been clenching onto the other end of it.

A sob tore through Lori’s throat, high-pitched and wretched, “That’s Rick’s jacket.” 

This time she did collapse and Maggie and Beth ran over to help Carol hold her up. Daryl shared silent look with Hershel, Glenn, and T-Dog.

“I could keep tracking them but it’s gonna be dark soon. Maybe…” Daryl’s voice trailed off.

“Maybe it’s better if we get ourselves to someplace safe,” T-Dog finished for him.

“And just leave my husband and son out here alone,” Lori snapped from where she had finally found stable footing. Her face, splotchy from tears, was hard as she looked back and forth between the men.

“No,” Daryl replied quickly. “We’ll keep looking for them in the morning but we have to make sure we don’t die while searching for them.”

“They may have made it to the museum,” Maggie added.

“You don’t know for sure,” Lori snapped back obstinately, “I’m _not_ leaving without my family.”

Hershel could hear the echo of those words from Carl from hours ago. Seems stubbornness was a Grimes family trait passed to son from mother and father.

Everyone moved slowly but no one spoke. It appeared that there was no one brave enough to tell the distraught woman that it was a necessity to, at least for the moment, leave their family in order to ensure their continued survival. Finally Daryl walked up to Lori and held out the jacket.

“It ain’t just you anymore,” Daryl started, “You have to be thinking about that baby you’re carrying. How do you think Rick would feel if something happened to you if we keep on stumbling blind in the dark looking for them?”

The stubbornness softened. Lori’s eyes fell to each member of the group as if seeking their council without a word passing between any of them. Carol held Lori’s gaze the longest, so much passing between the two women. Something in her face must have finally subdued Lori’s resolve.

“Okay, but I want to make one thing clear. We are going to keep looking for them until we find them. Is that clear?”

“Hell, I’ll make you that promise right here and now,” Daryl’s voice drew Lori’s eyes back to him. “I swear to you that I’ll find Rick and Carl. I won’t stop looking ‘till I find them.”

The archer held out his hand which remained steady. Carol gave him a sad but fond look. Lori sensed the other woman was probably thinking about a similar promise Daryl had made a few weeks ago.

With her arms wrapped around herself, Lori nodded in acceptance, “Thank you.”

A snap of a twig from the surrounding trees caused them all to jump to attention.

“Rick?” Lori gasped hopefully. A walker stumbled in the distance with a moan and her face fell dark.

“Let’s get going to that museum before we lose the light,” Daryl commanded, “With any luck they’ll be there already.” They piled back into the cars, Lori sitting so that her hip leaned against Carol’s. The dirty jacket clung between clenched and trembling fingers.

“It’ll be okay,” Carol whispered gently.

“You don’t know that for sure,” Lori snapped.

“No, but I can hope,” Carol answered unruffled by the terse reply, “It’s about all we have left.” 


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three years have passed and Daryl lives everyday with the consequences of his promise.

Chapter 1

The voices I hear, they never stop  
Conspiring, scheming, it’s an inside job  
The shape I'm in, worryin' me  
Won't you please hear my plea  
Oh, let it stop, let it stop  
I'm gonna lose my mind, I can feel it drop  
\- “Dementia” **The Damned and Dirty**

 

_(present)_

When the blackness behind his eyes gave way to cool grey of pre-dawn against the ceiling of the cell block, Daryl knew he was awake.

Use to be that he was awoken by the blare of a truly obnoxious alarm clock that would jolt him into consciousness. If it hadn’t been the one thing that helped dragged his ass out of bed every morning he would have bashed it against a wall long ago.

Funnily enough it had been a gag gift from Merle, who else would give him such an annoying present, but Daryl had continued to use it in his closet-sized bedroom in the trailer they shared. It proved to be one of the most useful things his brother had ever given him.

The soft silence, aside from a few snores from the cells, was unusual. Usually he would be woken by the harsh, sharp shrills of a baby. Lil’ Asskicker had one set of lungs on her and she liked to use them, particularly in the early morning. As they were living in an enclosed cement cell block the sound bounced off the walls invading every crevice.

Most of the residents, like him, had long since learned to ignore the sound. Cause really who wanted to be the heartless bastard who bitched about the baby crying too loudly?

Scrubbing his eyes with the back of his right hand, he pulled himself up into a sitting position. His muscles ached only slightly from their normal daily use and the ever present irritation of hunger sat heavy in the pit of his stomach.

A few minutes went by and the light began to brighten as it crept through the high barred windows causing stripped shadows against the wall.

_Gonna be a busy day_.

His little perch on the walkway was concealed with thick curtains made by Maggie and Carol. The women were forever looking after him like that. Not that Daryl was complaining about it. He would rather bite his own tongue then say anything bad to them. Figured he’d done enough of that back at the farm when he had stupidly tried to push everyone away.

“Daryl, you up?” Carol whispered from the bottom of the stairs.

“Yea, I’m up,” His voice was gravelly from sleep but a few sips from the bottle next to his bed helped.

“Come and get something to eat before you leave,” Carol treaded softly out the main block and towards the outer front door.

He would have to remember to ask if there was anything special she wanted him to look out for on the run. It was his way of saying thanks without having to say it out loud. Carol tended to read him without much conversation.

Today’s run was going to be important. The numbers in the prison had grown within the last six months so with more mouths to feed the issue of food remained on everyone’s mind.

Slipping on a clean shirt, Carol insisted he changed them every so often, he mentally ticked off the things they were most desperate to find. Eyes flickering to the wall he used his keys to scrape another line as he did every morning.

Since their arrival at the prison he had made his little marks to count the days then weeks they had been there. It was something he had started that first day after claiming his little area. He’d be damned if he was gonna sleep in a cell. _God_ , had it nearly been three years since they had moved into the prison?

It seemed almost criminal, _heh_ , that they had managed to stay in one secure place for so long without being molested. Even after they had lost…

Course he couldn’t really afford those thoughts right now not when he had to be at his peak focus. The world outside their fences was brutal and every time they re-entered it they all had to be at their best to avoid losing people to a gory death.

He stepped softly down the metal stairs to avoid disturbing those still asleep in their bends. Heading out into the main common area, he prepared for his daily gauntlet.

Lori stood at a table to the side, rocking Judy who rested on her hip. The baby’s chin rested on her mother’s shoulder and she peaked over at him. The gentle gaze of her eyes always softened him. Lori turned, sensing a change in Judy’s mood, and her grown-up eyes found him. These eyes always glimmered with bitterness.

He was used to it by now so he was able to give her a civil nod before coming over to rub Judy’s head. The soft strands shifted through his fingers and he memorized that feeling. It was good to hold on to such a memory when he was out there as a reminder why he worked so hard every day.

“Morning,” Lori lisped tersely.

They danced their uneasy truce, brokered by Carol, every day. Lori, stubborn though she was, acknowledged how important Judith was to Daryl. And for his part, Daryl accepted her dark opinions about him even after all this time. She thought he was a failure. Maybe he was.

Nearly three years and he had been unable to find a trace of her husband and son save for one message scrawled on a wall of a store that lead to nothing. Even now it hurt to think of them whether they were alive or dead. If they were alive were they together or had they been separated? Had they turned? Were they now one of the many faceless walkers that roamed the countryside?

Even worse was the thought that Rick would never get to see what they built and Carl…Carl would never get to meet his little sister. That thought always stabbed him in his gut. He had vivid memories of Carl bragging about how he was going to be the best big brother ever.

_No point in crying now. Too much to worry about_.

“Morning,” Daryl murmured, rubbing Judy’s head once more before offering, “Morning Lil’ Asskicker,” under his breath.

Lori huffed, her lips pulled into a perfect downward arch. She didn’t approve of his nickname but given he was the main reason they both had survived the birth, and she managed to keep her irritation in check…mostly.

“I’ll see you both tonight,” _Hopefully_. Daryl shuffled out the outer door to the courtyard.

The morning light wasn’t too harsh so his eyes adjusted quickly. Cool air brushed his cheeks, a reminder that it was fall and soon winter would come again. They desperately needed to lie in supplies for those months when runs would be difficult.

The courtyard had long been cleared of the prison walker corpses and now every free space of concrete was set up to be useful. Barrels used to collect water lined one fence, while two small gardens had overtaken another area. The biggest addition was the huge outdoor kitchen and seating area with a hand-made wood cover.

Meals were a communal affair with everything going towards feeding everyone equally. Well, almost equally. It was an unspoken rule that kids usually got bigger portions. The few times they had run low on stores he had seen several adults, including himself, reduce their own portions rather than let the little ones go without.

He was determined to not put anyone in that position every again.

While the chefs usually rotated from a list of volunteers, Carol could often be found at the kitchen helping out, overseeing, or cooking. She was there now preparing meals for them to take on the road.

She smiled brightly as he walked up to her, “Good morning.”

“Thanks for making lunch,” He walked up and watched her work for a moment before going to grab a bottle of water. Unsealed bottles were usually saved for runs. Other water was collected and boiled before being stored in sealed containers.

Daryl was quiet as he unwrapped and chewed on a breakfast bar that was only a little stale. His quietness must have tipped Carol off.

“Everything okay?” She tilted her head.

He kept chewing unsure if he should answer. Of course it was Carol and she knew him well enough to know that something was bothering him.

“Did she say something?” Carol’s eyes flashed. She wouldn’t allow his silence.

“Nah, not really,” Lori’s temper rose and fell with the wind and while she was often more terse with him than others it was well accepted that people were to be cautious around her.

Daryl hated that Carol frequently got caught up in the middle of any disputes between he and Lori. He once had confronted her to ask why she did it.

“It’s my own choice,” was all she answered with.

It hadn’t escaped anyone’s notice that Carol had appointed herself as Lori’s guardian/partner in nearly every aspect. They were friends of course. They had been since they met on the highway to Atlanta Carol had once explained but after the farm Carol had stepped up their relationship. She went so far as to approach him and Glenn for weapons training.

Though they were surprised neither man had the heart to tell her no. Eventually her skills improved and as they traveled Carol never strayed far from Lori.

As weeks turned into months Carol approached him to make sure that he wasn’t offended by Lori’s attitude.

Daryl bluntly responded, “I’m fine.”

“Just making sure,” Carol half smiled, “Wouldn’t want any discord to cause problems.” She needn’t have worried.

Even with their minor fights they had managed to avoid any major confrontations that would cause chaos in the group. They had all remained united first in their search for Rick and Carl and then seeking a safe place for a pregnant Lori to give birth safely.

Carol flicked his ear to get his attention again, “Don’t forget to look out for any dry pasta though I don’t know if you’ll be able to find any that is still good. Bugs tend to get into pasta for the flour.”

“I’ll do my best,” Daryl swallowed the last bite of his breakfast bar and gave her a small side hug before heading to check his bike.

Maggie and Hershel had already gotten up early and were in their fields tending to their crops along with one or two others who weren’t afraid of an early morning. Maggie waved from where she sat nursing a tomato plant.

He waved back and hoped. If he did manage to get his hands on some pasta they would all manage to have it with a fresh tomato sauce compliments of the Greenes. It had been Maggie, on a run with him two years ago, that sought out a nursery that still had plants and she had gathered plenty of supplies to make a new working farm in the yards of the prison.

Daryl had fond memories of biting into that first batch of homegrown tomatoes, the burst of flavor on his tongue so much better than anything they had recently.

The yards had been divided according to a careful plan by Hershel and Maggie. The older man had even spoken out against a cemetery area they had wanted to add inside the fences.

“We need all the available soil inside the faces. Its good soil and we can’t waste it. The sooner we become self-reliant the less runs we have to make and risk lives.” 

With Hershel’s guiding hand they cleared their fields and gotten to work on preparing the ground for their crops. Those first few months they all chipped in to help. Then at the beginning of last year a few group of survivors joined from a collapsed community called Woodbury. To their surprise the survivors included Andrea who had managed to survive the farm thanks to her new friend Michonne.

Though a good portion of the Woodbury group was elder people, they brought something much more valuable with them than material goods. They brought a wealth of knowledge and experience. This included two more farmers, one of which had taken over a portion of their fields to domesticate wild pigs they caught in the forests around the prison.

The thought of having fresh ham and bacon was a welcome one to all.

“Morning Daryl,” A sing-song voice called out. A shorter, lean black man came around the corner carrying a full fishing kit.

“Morning, Sam. How are you always so damn cheery in the morning?” Daryl grumbled.

Samuel, face marred by a large scar on his right cheek grinned cheekily, “I’m alive and I have a purpose. Can’t get any better than that.”

Even Daryl couldn’t resist the pull of his lips into a half smile. Samuel had been rescued on a run a few weeks ago and immediately had asked if anyone had been fishing in the nearby streams or rivers. By now the prison was at such a size that they would need to increase their hunting and runs.

Daryl had worried about overhunting in the area around the prison not to mention difficulties in getting to the animals before the biters did. Neither Daryl nor any of the others had given a thought to the possibility of fishing.

Glenn had answered Samuel’s question with one of his own, “No, I mean…how would you do it? You couldn’t stand there long enough before I walker could get you.”

“Ah, that’s the problem isn’t it?” Samuel had thought it through. “We just need to keep them distracted for a little while.”

Luckily this was something they had become accustom too. Setting walker traps using wind chimes, boom boxes hooked up to car batteries, and a few other tricks. This helped clear an area which allowed Sam to go out, usually an escort, and spend a few hours doing his thing. Fishing supplies had remained untouched in most nearby stores so there was no shortage of rods and line for him to use.

Fresh fish was soon presented at their tables, always cooked through. It was a good treat and an alternative because the day may come when the sheer size of the walker herds cause fresh meat to become rare to find.

“Did you need me to get you anything on the run today?” Daryl offered the smaller man.

“Nah, I’m good. I’ll bring you back what I can. Good luck out there. Don’t die.”

Daryl snorted. Samuel always said this when he went out on a run and perhaps it did help Daryl a bit. It was a silly reminder to not fuck up when they went out into the world.

While he checked on his bike, the others going on the run began to filter out of their cell blocks and began loading the cars. Their caravan would include a van, a truck, and Daryl would lead on his motorcycle.

“How we doing?” Sasha asked as she tossed her bag in the van.

“Good, we should be ready to go in about ten minutes,” He answered as he wiped his hands on a scrap of towel.

“Think we’ll see any trouble?” She counted the rounds of ammunition they were taking and making a note in a notebook that was kept with the weapons.

“Hope not.” Daryl wasn’t expecting Bob, an army medic and the newest entrant to their community, to come around the corner. Sasha shifted her weight beside Daryl. She liked Bob, he could tell, but she was a guarded person and didn’t trust easily. Once her shell was cracked she was great person to have to protect your back.

“I’d like to volunteer my services on the run today,” Bob began.

“You’ve only been here a week,” Sasha shot back. Daryl decided to step back and let her handle it.

“Right and that means a week worth of meals. I’d like to start pulling my weight around here,” Bob lit up a charming smile waiting for Sasha’s verdict.

Sasha bit her lip, brow crinkled in contemplation before she gave Daryl a side look. He glanced down before meeting her gaze. They were both probably thinking the same thing.

“Alright, we could use you if we have any accidents.”

If it was possible Bob’s smile grew larger, his face apparently handsome enough to pull a grin from Sasha. She was obviously smitten with Bob but wouldn’t embark on anything until she was good and ready. Daryl admired her for that.

Tyreese, Sasha’s brother, came around the corner with his own bag hanging from his shoulders, “Ready for a new day?”

Daryl had liked Tyreese nearly instantly. Smooth where his sister was sharp, Tyreese was strong man but was often kind and gentle. Tyreese also instantly took a liking to Judith and had become a wonderful emergency babysitter for the baby when Lori, Carol, and Beth were busy. He usually came on runs to help Daryl scrounge for baby supplies.

The light of the morning sun was becoming stronger through the trees. Michonne, followed by the rest of their group began to claim their spots in the cars.

Carol jogged over with her hands holding a box full of food.

“Keep an eye out for everyone. I’d like you to all come back in one piece,” She ordered as she nudged him with elbow.

“I’ll do my best,” He grunted. Clicking the radio onto his vest at the shoulder, he gave her one last nod. There wasn’t really any promise he could make. Daryl had learned better.

“We ready to go?” Michonne nudged his leg with her foot as she carried the box of food.

“Think so. We’ve got the food and everyone’s here…” He lifted his head and she gave him nod as she slid into her car.

Michonne was one of the more interesting members of their community. She had a deadly katana that she used to cleanly slice a walker’s head off. At first Daryl was aware that she may frighten certain members of their group. Lori in particular wasn’t a big fan but she, like the rest of them, warmed up to her when it became apparent how much Michonne cared for Andrea.

None were surprised when the two made their relationship official.

With Michonne in the van, Daryl mounted his motorcycle mentally ticking off his list of supplies. His bag was in the truck and his crossbow was swung on his back within reach.

Revving the bike, he turned back waiting for conformation from each car. Michonne, Sasha, Bob, and Zach, one of the college-age kids, were in the van while Bob, Oscar, T-Dog, and Glenn were in the truck. Glenn and Michonne waved out their respective windows and Daryl focused on front.

His bike glided out of the storage yard and down the dirt road through the field towards the entrance. The morning guard was already standing at the gate waiting to let them out.

Before they hit the gate, Hershel straightened from where he had been leaning and waved. Daryl jerked his head in acknowledgement and reminded himself to look for the things the older man needed.

_That bug stuff whatever it was_.

Thankfully Hershel had written it down. The sharp rumble of his motor pierced through the morning silence drawing the attention of any nearby walkers. Their decomposing bodies turned to follow the sound. Since the gate had two doors and was flanked by a wall of wooden spikes, which the corpses often impaled themselves on, very few got through the newly erected fence and gate.

Once out the gate every muscle in Daryl’s body coiled. He had to be on guard every second.

They were starting out early in hopes they could reach near the northern corners of the state, maybe an abandoned town that hadn’t been raided yet. They would have to go around Atlanta and although they had marked out what roads were mostly safe there was no guarantee if a large herd had moved in.

The road in front of the prison was fairly clear so he pressed on taking a lead on the other two cars. He knew the route and the alternative roads if they needed to detour. Despite being alone on his bike, Daryl enjoyed these trips. Sometimes the prison could be too constricting especially now that they were bursting with people.

“How we looking Daryl?” Sasha asked over the radio.

“Pretty good so far,” He answered, “I’ll let you know if we run into any trouble.”

“Copy that.”

Repeating the list of top priority items, Daryl’s mind wandered a bit. It was beginning to worry him the amount of people they had living in the prison. It was amazing how much had changed for them since they had first found it.

Well when _he_ had first found it.

~

_(past)_

Those months after they lost the farm were difficult for the group. They skittered around in a barely controlled panic as they searched for supplies and their missing men.

Lori was even more difficult, between her stress over Rick and Carl, and having to handle her pregnancy. No one blamed her though they walked on eggshells. This was when Carol had stepped in to help care for Lori as well as become a buffer between Lori and the rest of the group.

Eventually they were driven to a mobile life, driving around in search of Rick and Carl while trying to keep from starving. Days turned into weeks and the twist in Lori’s lips only got deeper as they failed to find her family.

Fall turned into winter and as with their luck it was an especially hard season with several freezes that forced them to go to ground.

The days were marked by the size of Lori’s stomach and Daryl knew he wasn’t the only one pained by the sight of her distended belly against her slim frame.

Their traveling eventually reached a circle in mid-spring as they were desperate to find a secure place that wasn’t a storage unit. Hershel had told them in hushed tones that it was nearing Lori’s time and they needed to find a secure place.

One day while on a solo hunting trip Daryl had stumbled across the prison while following a line of abandoned train tracks. He balked at first at the sight of yards laden with uniform wearing corpses stumbling around aimlessly. Something though nagged at him enough to go back to the others and lead them to it.

Hershel declared it a godsend. Nervously they began to plan what to do since the walkers were numerous and their ammunition stores were low.

Their problem was solved when Glenn suggested they get into the inner pathway and draw them to the fence to neatly dispatch them through the chain link fence. Maybe not the best plan but a plan nonetheless.

Daryl would have preferred to just shoot them but there was merit in Glenn’s idea. What was more the Korean had volunteered to make a run to close off the inner yard from the main courtyard were was equally as over run. It took nearly all night to get the walkers down enough for Glenn to make his run but he was successful.

That night, after pulling their cars into the yard, they settled in with a small fire in the middle of the field. Despite the chorus of growling coming from the walkers in the courtyard, they were all feeling elated by their success.

“What now?” Beth asked after finishing her portion of the two rabbits Daryl had been able to hunt.

“Well, we have security which is something new,” Maggie started, “But should we stay here?”

“I vote that we should,” Hershel answered. “This place as two rows of fences so it’s secure, more secure than we’ve had for a while. We have a lot of room but more important we have _land_. This soil is good. We get some seeds and soon we can build a farm here and sustain ourselves.”

Daryl though was feeling antsy, “It’s still a prison. We ain’t got a clue how many walkers could be just right there. Could be hundreds. Is it worth living that close to danger?”

“Why don’t we just do what we did today and pop’em through the fences?” Beth asked.

No one objected to the idea the only problem was the time.  Lori was a time bomb and the sooner they could get into the prison the better.  Not to mention the possibility of food and medical supplies.

The next morning they got started. Since last night walkers had lined the fences, drawn by their noise so they began the arduous task of killing them one by one. Soon they ran into an issue that threatened to derail their plan.

As the walkers piled up at the fence soon there was an obstruction keeping new walkers from reaching the fence. Sometimes they tripped on the line of bodies and thus their head was close enough for them to kill but now that the entire line of the fence was blocked they were stuck again.

It was Daryl who took control. Deciding that it was time for them to venture into the inner courtyard and try something T-Dog had put forth. Daryl, Glenn, Maggie, and T-Dog all entered the courtyard in a circle formation, each armed with their weapons. They slowly inched their way inwards with each person taking care of whatever walker came close to them then moving back into the circle. Eventually they managed to make it to the side yard that still held a large amount of walkers. Thanks to Glenn and Daryl they were able to lock it off.

Maggie managed to kill a prison guard in SWAT uniform and soon they had more weapons they could use.

“Well, let’s take a look inside,” T-Dog, now armed with a fresh gun lead the way into the first cell block, the one labeled ‘A’. To their surprise they entered an empty large common room which led into a row of cells. Daryl climbed the guard tower to find the corpse of one guard who had eaten his gun. He had a set of keys which led to the cells.

They found only two walkers still locked in their cells. Once cleared they now had a completely secure place with beds and locks that would keep them safe even a walker somehow managed to get inside. There wasn’t much food but a secure place to sleep at night was nothing to scoff at.

Now came the hard part. It looked like rest of the prison was dark from the lack of power so they would have to arm themselves with guns and flashlights in order to map out what they could and find the cafeteria and clinic.

They hit a snag of course. This world never made anything easy for them.

In trying to avoid a group of walkers Hershel cut his leg on something sharp and with him down they were struggling to take out the walkers. The group took cover in what they soon realized was the prison cafeteria.

What they weren’t expecting was a group of inmates to still be alive in the cafeteria. The men were baffled apparently locked up by a guard and left for months without knowing what was going on in the outside world. Never attempting to leave, probably frightened by the sounds of growling dragging past their doors.

Unfortunately at least two of the inmates weren’t going to cooperate and they soon found a gun in their faces.

The standoff lasted a few minutes with Glenn and T-Dog trying to talk the inmate, Tomas, down. Daryl watching with anxious eyes realized that Tomas and another inmate were stalking closer to them…and to the closed doors.

_You have one chance. Don’t fuck it up_.

Tomas was so engrossed with his arguments with the others that he didn’t have to time see Daryl lunge for the door. A shot went off but Daryl was already covered by the door. Thankfully his plan worked.

Three walkers lumbered in and went straight for the two inmates standing by the door. While they screamed Daryl got away from the door to protect Hershel. The remaining three inmates looked on in horror and fear.

Once the other two were surely dead, Daryl motioned for T-Dog and Glenn to help him and together they took out the walkers and took care of the walkers. Glenn had also grabbed Tomas’s gun. Over the winter they had figured out that you didn’t have to be bitten to turn into a walker anymore. Now it seemed like all you had to do was die.

With that taken care of Daryl took the lead in facing the remaining three inmates.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen. You’re gonna help us take some of this food back with us and then we’ll have a talk. Try and hurt us or anyone we’re with I will put a bullet in your heads myself.”

The remaining inmates shared a look before the tallest stepped forward. “They call me Big Tiny.”

The others introduced themselves as Axel and Oscar. Silently Oscar and Axel helped carry bags while Big Tiny volunteered to help Hershel walk back.

Glenn gave Daryl a nervous look but there was something about Big Tiny’s demeanor that Daryl felt he could trust. T-Dog also gave a nod in his approval but ultimately it was Hershel who told Big Tiny, “Thank you son.”

Lori was not pleased with the new additions to their group.

“You’re going to just let them live here with us?” She demanded shrugging off Carol’s murmurs that Lori shouldn’t overstress herself.

“We don’t know that yet,” Hershel countered, “We know that they’ve been locked up since this started. They’ve no idea that the world they knew is gone. Unlike their two friends none of them have shown signs of aggression.”

“So you feel safe having three convicts, people who could be in here for god knows what crimes, sleeping next to your daughters?” Lori’s eyes flashed. Daryl shifted uncomfortably. Lori had a point. Big Tiny may look harmless but he was a prisoner and had done something to get himself locked up same for Oscar and Axel.

“We need to give them a chance though,” T-Dog cut in, “Explain the situation show them the rest of the prison and give them another cell block to live in. Maybe give them a trial period or something.”

The group, huddled close in front of the line of cells, rung their hands as to what to do. Eventually Hershel called for a vote. Lori and Beth voted to force the inmates out of the prison. Everyone else voted to give them a chance.

Lips twisted, Lori went to rest in her cell. Beth, wide-eyed, listened as Maggie told her that she would keep her safe. Daryl didn’t blame either woman for their fear. Beth was smart enough to be afraid of any strange man and Lori, so close to giving birth, would put her child’s safety above all else.

They got lucky.

All three proved to be okay guys and Axel, as a former mechanic, was helpful with their vehicles. Oscar was strong and liked working outside. Big Tiny though…

Big Tiny died during a trip into the tombs. He was the nicest of the inmates but his kind nature lead to his hesitation in facing a walker that he knew…and he didn’t survive the encounter.

They buried him in their new courtyard just outside the prison gates. It was then Glenn and Daryl discovered the downed part of the prison. One fence and wall busted open allowing walkers to climb in.

“We need to seal that off,” Daryl demanded. “If we ever want to clear the tombs, get this place safe from the inside we have to fix that.”

It was a daunting task but somehow, _somehow_ , they were able to put together a temporary barrier. Axel was taken on a run and managed to get an eighteen wheeler working. They parked the truck in front of the gap then filled the empty space below and around with rocks and spikes. All the while Maggie and Hershel kept walkers distracted by driving a car around to herd any walkers towards them instead of the prison.  

“Why stop here?” Glenn asked. “Why not sure up the fences with other trucks and cars? I mean…Daryl said the chain link fences weren’t great on their own.” The younger man was nervous as he spoke to the group that night at their meeting.

“It’ll be a lot of work,” Maggie pointed out.

“Yeah, but it’ll be worth it. To have this place become something. We can start taking in other survivors, families, people who need a place. We have to start rebuilding somewhere. Why can’t it be here?”

_Naïve_ , Daryl grunted mentally but even he couldn’t deny it was a good idea. It would certainly give him a small measure of comfort when he went out on runs.

“It’ll be hard to pull off,” Hershel added. “But maybe it’ll be better to secure what we can before the baby comes. Chances are the noise will attract more walkers.”

If there was one thing they could all agree on it was protecting Lori’s baby. It was the least they could do.

The next few weeks were the hardest. Lori was stuck on strict bed rest and Hershel and Carol did their best to look after her while the rest of them worked overtime to get the fences reinforced. They were half way done with it happened.

Lori went into labor…and was soon bleeding. Nearly everything useful had been pillaged from the clinic but the ashen faces of Maggie and Beth and worried frown pulling at Hershel’s lips was ominous.

Daryl couldn’t stand it. He paced the length of the inner common room anxiety gnawing his lips bloody.

_Please_.

“Daryl, Glenn!” Maggie ran out of the cell block. She was pale but moved with a purpose. “We have a problem.”

“What do ya need?” Daryl demanded.

The list was extensive and they were running out of time. Glenn volunteered to go but Maggie thought it better if she went.

“I know what he needs and it’ll go faster with just Daryl and me,” She gave Glenn a kiss before they got on his motorcycle.

The new few hours were the most frantic of Daryl’s life. They scrambled to find the necessary supplies with Maggie occasionally finding alternatives that would work. As they worked Daryl’s curiosity got the better of him.

“Are they gonna die?”

“No…I hope not,” Maggie swallowed. “Dad is doing the best he can and Carol is helping too. But…”

She bit her lip, “Apparently Lori had a C-section with Carl which means she needs one now. Dad will have to cut her open to get the baby out and if we don’t get this stuff back as soon as we can she probably won’t survive.”

 “And the baby?”

“That’s why we need the formula. If Lori…doesn’t make it we have the means to keep the baby alive.”

Daryl had failed Rick and Carl…he wasn’t going to fail Lori and the baby.

Five hours later they were back from the fastest run with everything they needed. Beth ran out to meet them.

“Hurry,” Her eyes were full of tears. Daryl helped Glenn and Maggie carry the supplies in and Maggie went to help just as Lori’s screams peaked.

_Please let them live_.

The wait was an eternity yet only another hour went by before the high-pitched squeals of a newborn flooded the cell.

Half of them exhaled hard glad that at least the baby was breathing but Daryl twisted his fingers into knots waiting to hear.

Hershel came out, blood ominously splattered on his shirt, but the tension had melted from his face.

“They’re both doing okay.”

Everyone collapsed as the weight of their anxiety shattered. Hershel went on to tell them that he had successfully delivered the baby via C-section and had been able to sew Lori up with the help of Carol, Maggie, and Beth but…

“If you hadn’t gotten those things…” Hershel’s eyes found Daryl, “I don’t think they would have made it.”

Daryl barely registered the pats on the shoulder and back, his eyes were fixed on the Carol who had just appeared through the door cradling a bundle.

“Lori’s resting but we thought everyone should meet our newest addition.”

She went straight for Daryl bending so that he could see the squirming baby.

“Wanna hold her?” Carol grinned.

Blinking but unable to say no, he nodded. Carol passed over the baby instructing him on the proper way to hold her.

The baby whimpered before beginning to cry again and Daryl, though he would never admit it, was flustered. Beth suddenly appeared and handed him a warm bottle.

For a second he stood there bottle in one hand and baby in the other. Carol grinned.

“Go ahead.”

He offered the bottle and the baby began to suckle, quieting down as she ate with fervor. Rocking her as she ate his eyes trailed up to look at the faces of everyone else. Wonder, awe, relief…

Daryl looked back at the face of the little girl in his arms.

_I promise_ …

He wouldn’t fuck up again.

~

_(present)_

“Daryl? How you doing?” Sasha inquired over the walkie-talkie.

“So far so good,” He yelled back over the sounds of his bike and wind. Weeks of traveling this road had taught him what roads were safe and which to avoid. They did their best to map out the movement of the biggest herds and did their best to avoid those roads whenever possible.

Once you were out there though there was never any guarantee especially with the herds.

Those herds were the most deadly part of their runs. Biters in a group of eight or less weren’t too much of a handful. Hell, he was getting good at handling upwards of five on his own.

But a full blown herd? Herds were now numbering in the hundreds and Daryl feared the day would come when one would number in the thousands.

Maybe that accounted for the newest job at the prison. It was perfect for those not quite brave enough to go on runs yet but weren’t afraid of venturing around the prison’s perimeter. These people got a lot of training on killing walkers until they were generally strong enough to be trusted.

The job was to go out and clear the fences and work at catching and killing as many walkers near the prison as they could. One of the newer members of the community was a construction worker and put for the idea of building pits and making traps.

Although the group had a few mishaps they were so far gaining traction in their personal battles with the walkers and as far as Daryl was concerned the more walkers they killed the less the herds would grow.

An hour and half later they were on the other side of Atlanta and Sasha called out to him again.

Daryl’s eyes had been steady on the road and now they were far enough away from the prison he begun to study the signs and the random buildings on the roads. Normally they didn’t raid any of these roadside gas stations and shops since they had probably longed been emptied of anything useful.

Soon the sign he had been looking for came up.

“We’re going to take the next exit,” Daryl shouted guiding his bike to down the exit and onto US 411. They would stop at the first little town they came to then maybe try the country road to smaller hamlets that hopefully were untouched.

As lookout he had the most important job. The safety of everyone on the run rested on his shoulders and he would have to absolutely sure that the location was safe before he allowed the rest to follow him.

Walkers weren’t the only danger they had to fear nowadays. The Woodbury survivors had told them dark tales of dangerous men who had caused the downfall of their community. As a result Daryl was hyperaware of the dangerous human element that could be lurking anywhere.

Being out on the runs weren’t the only thing tugging on his mind. He often worried about home, what could happen every time they took some of the strongest fighters out. They couldn’t grow everything they need so runs were still an important part of their everyday routine.

Daryl was all too aware how dangerous a group of people could be when there was no food.

Halfway up US 411 Daryl saw more weathered signs for a town called Fairmont. It was as good a place as any to start.

“Turn left at the exit for Fairmont,” He shouted in his walkie.

The town, if you could call it that, was deserted with a few scattered walkers around a small town square that was dominated by a courthouse. Cutesy antique stores and small stores lined the square.

Slipping his long knife from his belt he dispatched the two closest walkers as the other cars began to pull up.

“How does it look?” Glenn asked as he slipped out his car.

“Don’t know,” Daryl muttered. The courthouse was his biggest concern as it was big building with plenty of windows. Someone could be hiding up there watching them.

“Want to double check that building before we start searching the stores?” Sasha asked.

T-Dog swiftly bashed in a walker’s head before adding, “Don’t know about the shops but the antiques store might have something useful.”

It was a good bet. Carol had pointed it out to him that first winter when they had been scrounging for useful items.

“This is the south,” She explained to him, “There’s antiques store in every small town. Chances are we’ll find something we can use.”

Forcing his focus on the present, Daryl grabbed his crossbow and raised it to eye level.

“Let’s get in formation and check the courthouse. Then we’ll go store to store.”

They were a well-oiled machine by now. Sasha had helped groom the circle formation when going through town and dealing with large groups of walkers. At least fifteen of them had been drawn by the sounds of their arrival and were shuffling towards them.

It wasn’t long before the last one was laid out on the concrete. They crept into the courthouse, the windows proving shafts of light through the dimness.

“Let’s split into teams and do a check of each room,” Sasha ordered, her military experience taking over. The building had only two floors so it shouldn’t take them too long to go through barring any unforeseen disasters.

Sasha turned to him, “Daryl you’re good taking Zach right?” She grinned wide and he could even see a twinkle in her eye.

_Dammit she did that on purpose_ , he grumbled internally.

“Sure,” He motioned Zach over, “Keep up and keep your gun up.”

Zach had been with the group for nearly a year and a half but only recently begun to join the run teams. Daryl hated getting stuck with the newbie. Even worse the kid had recently started “dating” Beth so now he was going to worry about hurting the youngest Greene daughter if Daryl let anything happen to her boyfriend.

“Let’s get started on the second floor,” Daryl directed the younger man. As they started up the stairs flashlights and weapons ready he made a small plea.

_Let everything go okay_.

Daryl had no idea what he was in for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few interesting notes:  
> \- We will be flipping back and forth between the past and present quite often.  
> \- I feel like the group would have gone on to find the prison even without Rick.  
> \- In this timeline Michonne is in lesbians with Andrea and we'll get more of them in future chapters.  
> \- Daryl is quite hard to write. Maybe I'll get better as we go along.  
> \- I really loved Carol and Lori's relationship throughout season two and the beginning of season three so you'll see lot of that.  
> \- I honestly don't know what little towns in Georgia look like so I based the look of Fairmont on little towns in Texas.  
> \- In this timeline there is something about the prison community that is similar to Alexandria. Can you guess what it is?  
> _ There will be more OCs. I'm not sorry.
> 
> Hope everyone enjoyed this chapter! In the next chapter we will visit Rick and Carl in the past.


	3. Chapter 2a

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick and Carl struggle alone with only each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the wait. Real life decided it would do everything possible to keep me from writing. In fact this chapter is suppose to be much longer but rather than waiting to have it all done I've done ahead and posted the first part. Hopefully the second part will follow. Hope y'all enjoy it.

_Oh Lord, live inside me, lead me on my way_  
_Oh Lord, live inside me, lead me on my way_  
  
_Oh Lord, Heaven's waiting, open up your door_  
_Oh Lord, Heaven's waiting, open up your door_  
_Lead me home_

\- _Lead me Home_ Jamie N Commons

 

Rick was nothing short of a fool. God he was worse than a fool, he was a _fucking idiot_.

Driving down the tree lined two-lane dirt road towards the museum, Rick’s mind had been jumbled by a thousand different worries all spinning a blinding web. These thoughts snarled his concentration keeping him so distracted that for a split second he took his eyes off the road in front of him.

“Dad! Look out!” Carl shrieked.

“Fuck!”

In that one second he had neglected to see a dog darting across the road followed by a trio of lumbering walkers. Even stomping on the breaks couldn’t break their momentum in time and they slammed into the walking corpses. Their bodies ripped under the tires and blood splashed over the hood and windshield.

With the tires slick with blood and viscera, Rick lost control of the steering wheel and the car careened to the right. In the brief moment before impact the only thought in his mind was _Carl!_

His arm shot out to help hold Carl’s smaller body in his seat despite the knowledge that Carl had seat belted himself in.

Then everything went black.

“Dad,” Someone was calling him frantically and hand was shaking his shoulder. Sharp pain jolted him with every shake and it brought him into consciousness. His head throbbed and his shoulder burned with a piercing pain. What was more he could hear the distinct sound of growling to his left.

_What_ …?

“Please, dad,” Carl’s voice was a whining sob, the type Rick hadn’t heard from his teenage son. The ring of it stabbed deep in his chest.

His throat vibrated with a groan but he opened his eyes and realized that he was resting on the steering wheel, his head angled to the left. His vision was red, probably thanks to the blood leaking from a wound in his head, _that explains the headache_ , but through the haze he could make out the shape of a walker chomping at the window trying to get in. Remarkably the glass had remained intact.

“Dad, are you okay? Please say you’re okay.” Hysteria caused Carl’s voice to squeak higher than normal.

“Car…” Rick’s throat burned with his attempts to speak but he swallowed as he tried to sit up despite the torment coursing through his body.

_Get up_ , a voice growled internally. He had to check on Carl and make sure his son wasn’t suffering from the same, or worse, injuries than his.

Rick rolled his shoulders and his head, though it felt tender, didn’t feel as if he was in any danger of blacking out. Wincing he turned to face Carl. Amazingly his son appeared unhurt.

“Are you okay?” He choked out.

“Yeah…” Carl swallowed, “Are you…?” His eyes were bright with distress and concern.

“I…think so…” Rick sighed, “My shoulder…How long has it been?”

“Only a few minutes I think.”

Rick took stock of his surroundings. Carl was right, the light looked the same so they hadn’t lost much time however…

“How many walkers?” He rasped realizing that there was more on Carl’s side of the truck. Not only that but there was a crack in the passenger door window.

“Two on my side, one on yours but they’re being loud so more maybe coming,” Carl breathed.

_We have to get out_. The car certainly wouldn’t start and if they stayed they could soon be trapped by a hoard. They had no idea when the others would head down this road. If it was more than a day they risked starvation.

Unbuckling himself, Rick bit his lip to control a cry of pain. Carl’s hand reached out to help his dad move.

“I’m gonna…slide into the backseat and open the window a crack. I’ll take the one out on my side then I’ll go around your side and take care of those two.”

Working through all the pain surging throughout his body, Rick forced himself to shimmy into the back seat and reached for the window handle.

“Cover your ears!” He ordered. Carl did as he was told and plugged his ears with his fingers. Rick plugged his left ear and turned his head as far away as he could.

_God help me get us through this_. Rick rolled the window down enough to stick the barrel through and the walker instantly tried to stick its rotting teeth through the opening. This made it easy enough for Rick to stick the barrel in the walker’s mouth and pull the trigger. The bang was deafening and the recoil was just enough to cause another throb of pain at his temple.

_Hurry_! His body urged him forward to shove the door open now that his walker was dead. One walker from Carl’s side began to move around the truck, no doubt drawn to the gunshot. Rick slid around the back of the car and shot him but was suddenly attacked by a new walker which had crossed the road.

This one was big so it was struggle to fend him off.

“Dad!” Carl’s screech was followed by the sound of shattering glass. The window had given way.

Adrenaline crested giving him the needed strength to shove his gun into the walker’s temple. With a click its head scattered as pieces of brain and rotting flesh went flying but Rick had already sprinted around the car to find the last walker clawing through the broken window.

“Carl!” Rick seized the walker’s shoulder and pulled it back only to find that he was out of bullets. The walker lurched against them and nearly toppled them both. It took all his strength until a shot rang out and the walker’s head splattered into pieces.

Carl sat in the driver’s seat where he had scrambled when the window gave way, his hand still holding his gun up, and his face a mess of tears.

“C’mon,” Rick tugged the passenger door open and helped Carl out. The ruckus from their fight would draw more walkers. Already he could see a few figures in the distance moving a slow but steady pace.

“We need to get away from here and get some cover,” Rick urged Carl to walk away from the road and into the trees.

“What about the others? Mom?” Carl’s hand clenched Rick’s and he followed quickly despite his protests.

“I think the sign said we would make a right so we’re going the right way but there’s going to be more walkers and…” Rick’s muscles were strained and with no more bullets in his gun they were vulnerable.

They had only been walking for a minute or so when Carl tripped with a gasp. A walker had been crawling on the ground hidden by a huge shrub. Carl had managed to get too close without realizing he was there and he didn’t even have time to scream before the walker tried to drag him closer.

Rick though was faster, thanks to one last burst of adrenaline, and he yanked Carl out its clawing fingers. The growling corpse didn’t give up and instead managed to tangle its fingers in Rick’s jacket.

The energy burst faded and Carl was reaching for his gun.

“Don’t!” He ordered, “We may need it later!”

There wasn’t anything left but to shimmy out of the jacket and jog away with Carl’s sweaty hand in his.

_Find the others, find supplies, find weapons_ …

He repeated his mantra with every step. Carl didn’t ask any further questions but his breathing was heavy and strained. _He’s probably exhausted and hungry_.

It wasn’t too long before the light began to dim and Rick realized they were stuck in the middle of the woods, the museum nowhere in sight, and no idea what they were going to do.

Luckily they hadn’t run into anymore walkers but there was a speck of shelter in sight.

“Dad, what are we gonna go?” There was a silver of whine in Carl’s voice but Rick knew it wasn’t his son being petulant. The boy was visibly scarred about their situation and although he wished he knew the right things to say to calm him it was getting dark.

Just as it was becoming hard to see in front of them they came out to a clearing that was dominated with a giant old oak tree its branches thick and far spread.

_This could work_.

After checking the area around the tree, Rick knelt down to be face to face with Carl. He rubbed as his forehead wincing at the sweat and bloody grime that was dislodged.

“What are we gonna do?” Carl’s voice was so small.

“We’re going to spend the night here. We can sit up in the tree so no walkers can reach us and in the morning we’ll go and look for the supplies and weapons.”

“What about mom and the others?”

Rick nodded, “We’re gonna look for them too but neither of us is at our best. We haven’t eaten or had water all day and we need to protect ourselves. We need to be healthy enough to search for them. Do you understand?”

Carl nodded from underneath his hat, cheeks still marred by blood splatters.

“Come on,” Rick with one hand on Carl’s neck, led his son to the tree, and together they began to climb the branches. They only had to climb to the second level of branches before they found a spot that would work for them. There was a dip in the tree that was large enough to accommodate Rick and at such an angle that hopefully he couldn’t fall from.

There was a smaller branch but the space was too small and if Carl slept there he risked falling.

“Here…I know you’re a big boy now but I think it’ll be safer if you sleep on my lap so I can hold you.”

Carl’s nose scrunched and his mouth opened like he wanted to argue. Rick put his sternest look on, well as stern as it could be with his injuries. The teen gingerly sat on Rick’s legs at first appearing nervous in their positions but Rick didn’t rush him. Eventually the tension seeped from Carl’s muscles and he sank boneless to rest his head on his father’s shoulder.

Unfortunately doing so dislodged his hat and it tumbled down Carl’s back and onto the ground. Carl lurched back trying to grab it but Rick wrapped his arms around Carl’s waist and held on tight.

“My hat!”

“Don’t,” Rick choked out as they rocked and did his best to keep them on balance, “We’ll get it in the morning.”

Carl sighed before leaning back against his dad exhaustion overtaking him and after a few minutes his breathing evened out.

Around them the air was a strange mix of silence and noise. The quiet night was punctuated by the soft breaths of his son, the sound of the occasional bird or bat, and the cool breeze that rustled branches. Occasionally a twig snapped and it took all of his willpower to not jerk those snaps.

The darker it got the cooler the air became and Carl shivered then burrowed closer. Rick, devoid of his jacket, could feel the cold seep into his skin causing him to tremble with shivers but he did his best to wrap his arms around Carl to keep him warm.

Sleep wouldn’t come and that left him with nothing but his thoughts.

_How are we gonna find the others if we don’t get real food and water in us soon? What if they didn’t make it out_?

That was his biggest fear. There was no way of knowing if Lori and the others even survived fleeing the farm. Now he was hurt, body aching from muscle to muscle, stomach growling from hunger, and mouth dry and cracking.

Worse of all Carl was probably suffering like him and to Rick that was…unforgiveable.

_You got a weak boy_ …

The crescent moon allowed some light and in the distance of the clearing Rick could see a solitary walker lumbering through the underbrush. Watching the corpse move with no real direction, he swore a promise right there.

_You’ve got a weak boy… **no**. I have a son who I love more than anything and almost everyone…he may be the only family I have left…he is **mine** to protect and I have to anything, **anything** to see that he survives. He comes first now_.

He would prove Shane wrong…if it was the last thing he would ever do.

The early dawn was nearly too peaceful but Rick knew they needed to get a head start on the day. Carl had drifted in and out of sleep for most of the night and Rick had managed maybe thirty minutes before he woke himself. Sleep deprived and body aching from his wounds, Rick roused his son and helped him climb down the tree.

Luck stayed with them and there wasn’t a walker in sight. Carl’s gun had only four bullets left and he willingly handed it over to his father.

“Let’s see what we can find for food then we’ll try and make our way back to the museum to wait for the others.”

Carl just nodded exhaustion and hunger making him appear physically drained. They trudged through the trees until about mid-morning they finally found a road. By now Carl’s feet were dragging and Rick knew his son wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer.

_Maybe_ …

“Climb on my back for a while,” Rick offered. He wasn’t expecting Carl to give him a withering glare.

“You can barely walk,” The teen pointed out. Rick just managed to keep his mouth from dropping open.

“I know but…”

“ _No_ ,” Carl snapped, “We have to keep walking together if we’re gonna make it.” They had stopped during their conversation by the side of the road. In the distance they could see two walkers limping towards them. They would try their bet to avoid them if possible.

Rick shifted his weight while studying his son, “When’d you get so smart?”

Carl’s shoulders, which had been raised with tension, lowered slowly. He looked up at Rick from under his hat with a crooked grin.

“Someone has to have the brains between us.”

Rick didn’t bother suppressing his snort, “Come on. Let’s move to the other side of the road to try and avoid those walkers.”

Out of habit they looked both ways before they crossed and kept moving even as the small figures of the walkers became larger as they got near. Rick managed to spot a sharp rock that he clenched in his fist when they finally crossed the walkers. One was missing half a foot so it was moving glacially but the second, he had to bash in with the rock.

“C’mon.”

The sun had reached overhead when Carl tugged on Rick’s shirt, “Dad, look!”

Carl’s voice cracked in its excitement and Rick caught sight of what he could see. Just over the next hill they could make out the top of a building, probably a gas station. All they would have to do is make it up the incline.

_Please let there be food and water there_ , Rick prayed.

“Let’s go!” Carl found a burst of energy, probably the last he would have until they got food in them, and he pulled Rick up the hill.

Even with the dull ache of pain Rick found his own steps moving faster. As they crested the hill and the station came into full view he began to deflate.

Plywood boards had been nailed against the windows and door which meant the station may have been closed long before the walkers showed up and if that were the case then there would be no supplies to be had.

_But we have to try_.

From beside him, Carl went quiet no doubt his thoughts were as bleak as Rick’s. Determined to at least try, he pulled Carl’s gun out and began to creep around the building listening for the sounds of growls. Surprisingly the back door hadn’t been covered with plywood.

“Well,” He sighed, “let’s see what we got.”

Rick took a chance and banged the back of the gun against the door hoping to lure any walkers who may be lurking inside but a few minutes went by and they could hear nothing. Carl, armed with the sharp rock, blinked at him.

“Maybe it’s clear?”

The door was locked but Rick used the rock to break the handle. With no flashlight he made sure Carl stayed close behind him as they entered the darkened station. The first thing Rick noticed was the stench. Something was rotten and yet he couldn’t scent a trace of decaying flesh. Instead it smelled more of soured milk and rotting food.

_Rotting food_?

They stilled in the hallway for a moment as their eyes adjusted to the dark. Listening for the tell-tale sounds of a walker. There was only silence. The hallway was long and Rick, gun up, walked through it passing doors marked as employees only and restrooms.

Eventually the hallway opened up into the main store and it took Rick on a second to comprehend what he was looking at. A whimper simpered form Carl’s voice and the sound of it shocked Rick into motion.

Pulling Carl along by the arm, Rick stomped down an aisle and stopped in front of a freezer that was filled with rotting milk, some frozen food, and bottles of alcohol, soda, juice, and most importantly, water.

The door unsealed as he pulled and Rick grabbed a bottle of water, warm from sitting in the hot freezer, and broke the seal. Bending slightly he handed it to Carl with strict instructions, “Don’t down it all at once. Sip it slowly until your stomach adjusts. There’s plenty so have as much as you want.”

Nodding his son followed his directions mouth sighing as he took small gulps. Rick grabbed a bottle for himself, gloating over the rows and rows of untouched bottles.

Sipping the water he looked out onto the gold mine they had stumbled upon. Row upon row of well stocked shelves made his mouth water with the thought of food. Once they had both finished a bottle Rick gave them each one more before turning to the shelves.

“Dad, can I…”

“Go for it,” Rick grinned. Carl went straight of a bag of chips and began to tuck into it. Rick examined a few things before opening a bag of peanuts. It was all typical gas station food, a lot of snacks and a few small grocery items. The plastic microwave meals were useless but there were a few cans they might be able to use.

Even more on the far corner of the store was displays with clothes and other useful items. Then something caught Rick’s eye on other side of the front counter. He walked up and gasped. Carl sprinted to join him.

“What is it?”

Then Rick laughed a bonafide full belly laugh. He pointed to a locked case and Carl’s jaw dropped. The case had no less than five handguns and several boxes of ammunition. Even while Rick marveled at their luck, Carl’s brows furled quizzically.

“Why hasn’t anyone else found this place?”

That thought had crossed his mind. He mussed out loud, “Maybe the owner decided to evacuate and he didn’t have time to remove anything.”

That seemed the likeliest reason. The owner probably had just enough time to have his works apply the plywood before fleeing. He probably intended to come back and just start up his business like normal. Obviously that hadn’t happened.

Now he and Carl had a lot to do.

First they finished eating what they could and downing more water. After they were full they rested a while in the back thanks to an employee lounge couch. Rick had made sure the back door was closed and braced so no one could get it. While Carl napped, he went room by room to make sure there were no surprise inhabitants. Other than a few bugs, the whole place was empty.

Joining Carl on the couch, Rick rubbed at his muscles. His aches were lessened thanks to the painkillers he had found.

_What do we do from here_?

They needed a map to make their way back to the museum but they also needed to make sure they had plenty of supplies to last them a while as well as try to keep this place a secret so if they needed they could come back to it.

Carl’s head and slipped down to Rick’s shoulder, his hat perched on his lap. Rick ran a hand through his son’s hair which was limp and greasy.

So he made a list: _find a map, secure the store, gather supplies, head out and find the others_.

If they followed that order they could head out tomorrow morning in a much better position than they had been yesterday. A car would help even more but there had been none around the station. Perhaps they could find one that still worked on the road.

Rick roused Carl an hour later with another water bottle. While a thin voice in his head worried about rationing the precious commodity, he knew it would be better to get Carl hydrated and stronger physically before they ventured out.

What was more if it as only going to be the two of them until they found the others, Rick would need to teach Carl a few things that would help them both survive whatever stood between them and their family.

The teen was fairly steady with a gun so Rick resolved to show him a few tricks with knifes and basic self-defense moves.

“Let’s see if we figure out where we ar.” The gas store was cheerily named Frank’s Country Store but Rick had no idea what road they were on until Carl found a poster on a wall that was a map of a state with a bright ‘you are here’ sticker.

Instead of pulling down the plywood and risk exposing the store to other prying eyes, they found a good supply of brand new flashlights and batteries. According to the map they were close to the junction of highway 85 and 74. They were north of the farm by a few miles. Though Rick couldn’t see the museum on the map if they could backtrack a bit they might be able to find the signs to lead them.

Now that they had their map they began to sift through the store to put together a stock of supplies they could travel with.

There was a rack of shirts and jackets and Rick was grateful to toss his and Carl’s ruined shirts and replace them with new, if slightly dusty musty shirts. Using a first aid kit, Rick tended to his injuries from the accident then he slid on his new shirt. Even the small size was a bit too big for Carl though and the shirt collar stretched a bit around his neck and clavicle.

They found a few backpacks and filled them. Rick was delighted to find that in addition to the guns were was a case of hunting knifes. Rather than breaking the glass of that and the gun case, Rick did his best to pick the lock.

“Where’d you learn to do that?” Carl asked wide-eyed as the gun case lock clicked open.

The grin of accomplishment faded when he answered softly, “Shane.” Carl’s head ducked down and he remained quiet for the rest of the night.

Deciding they would leave bright and early, the raided the shelves for the most edible foods before deciding on a sleep schedule.

“We need to try and divide the night into shifts. You sleep first and I’ll stand watch then we’ll switch.”

If he was being honest Rick was nervous about letting Carl stand watch by himself but the teen’s chest puffed up with pride and there was no reason to disappoint him. Plus they were as secure as they could be.

“If you hear any walkers don’t make a sound. Let’em pass us by. We’ll deal with any we find in the morning.”

Since the windows were blocked the interior of the store became pitch black once evening settled. Rick decided he would try and get Carl to sleep now and perhaps wake him up a little later than their agreed upon time.

_I’ll acclimate him bit by bit_.

He had found a watch that still worked so he estimated the time and set it. Left with nothing but his thoughts he walked the interior of the store before it dawned on him that perhaps they should have an inventory.

With a flashlight tucked under his arm he scrounged around for a spiral notebook and tore into a pack of pens. Then he went to work. There was a storeroom that had a few pallets, some rotten but most were non-perishable.

Around 1:30am he set the notebook aside and shook Carl awake.

“Just walk around every so often…if you want to grab a book you can.”

Carl nodded, stuffing his gun in the back of his pants. As he left, Rick made note to either find or make a holster for his son.

Even with all the tension in his body, quite tender from his injuries, Rick eventually relaxed enough to doze off.

“Dad,” Carl gently shook him awake. Senses heightened he was lucky he didn’t just up and knock his son down. Blinking Rick could see light beginning to stream in from the cracks of the wood. It was time to go.

They shouldered their bags and took one last turn around to see if there was anything useful they should be bringing before heading out the backdoor. Rick found a spare piece of wood in the store room he used to nail against the backdoor. Hopefully that would deter someone from checking. He wished thought, as he hammered with the back of his handgun, that there was something else they could to keep people away.

His hopes were answered.

A walker appeared out of the tree line and headed for them, probably drawn by the sound of their hammering.

“I’ll get it,” Rick unsheathed his knife and gave the walker a stab in its temple.

“This is gonna work,” He grinned at Carl who tilted his head in confusion. Together they dragged the corpse to the front of the station and Rick, tearing off a piece of its shirt, cut into the walker and soaked the cloth in its blood. He then used to write a warning on the plywood that covered the front door.

After he finished he stepped back to admire his handy work. “What do you think?” He questioned Carl.

Carl grinned widely, “Looks good.” It was the first real smile Rick had gotten from him since they had separated from Hershel.

‘Warning dead inside’ emblazoned in walker blood with a body lying outside should help deter people from checking the station. That way if they needed they could always come back to it for more supplies.

“Let’s go.”

What a difference a day made. Yesterday they were starving, exhausted, and dehydrated. Today they were feed, well-rested, and carried enough supplies and weapons that should last them a few days and they had a map and a destination.

Carl was in a cheery disposition as they strode down the road back south in hopes of crossing the road to the museum.

“Mom’s gonna be proud of us…about the station isn’t she?”

“Probably,” Rick responded softly. _She might be more worried about why Shane isn’t with us_.

To be fair he wasn’t quite sure what her reaction would be. It had been apparent to him for some time that perhaps Lori had lingering feelings for Shane, most likely from their time together at the quarry.

He never blamed her for their affair though he wasn’t sure that was the best term for it. The world had fallen apart, she had to struggle to survive and take care of Carl all while grieving his supposed death so he didn’t fault her turning to Shane, her protector.

_Though knowing Shane he may have leaned on her_ …

That thought had flitted across his mind when Shane had his gun trained on him. His friend had sounded hysterically obsessed as he ranted.

“Dad,” Carl’s voice broke him from his memories. Three walkers were lumbering towards them. Seeing a good opportunity he told Carl to pull his knife. One walker was a smaller female so he directed Carl to take care of her without his gun.

“Get her down to your level,” Rick instructed. He quickly slew one walker then kicked the other so it fell on its back, that way he could intervene with Carl if needed. The teen’s hand shook a little but Carl managed to duck around the walker and trip her with his foot. With her on the ground he was able to force his knife into her forehead.

After taking care of the third walker, Rick checked on his son, “You okay?” Shooting a walker was one thing, taking one out up close was another matter.

“Yeah…” Carl’s voice trailed off. He swallowed, “Her skull was a bit…hard…”

Rick rubbed the back of Carl’s neck in soothing circles. “Yeah if they’re fairly fresh it can take a bit more push to get a blade in there. The older ones have decayed more so it’s easier since the skull’s softer.”

Carl’s eyes peered at the walker, the first he had killed face to face. Rick knew it was different than shooting one with a gun. That thought reminded him of something they had yet to talk about.

“Carl…about Shane…”

His son looked up at him with wide eyes before looking away, “I saw…”

“No, about what happened to Shane.” _He needs to know_. “Shane wasn’t bit…you remember that right?”

“Yeah?” Carl’s eyes widened.

“I…I learned something at the CDC before it blew up and I need to tell you. I didn’t think it was true at first but now…after Shane I know that it’s true. I need you to listen carefully.”

He knelt by Carl’s side after glancing to make sure the coast was clear.

“Carl…it’s a virus. Whatever it is that is making the walkers the way they are…it’s already inside us. So when we die we turn into them. That’s what happened to Shane. He didn’t have to be bit...he was already infected.”

Shock drove Carl’s skin paler, “So when we die…”

“Unless we destroy the brain like when we kill any normal walker, we’ll become one. I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you. I should have told you and everyone after the CDC but I didn’t know if Jenner was telling the truth.”

Rick waited intently for Carl to say something but the teen remained mute.

“Let’s…” Rick swallowed, “Let’s keep going.”

They paced through the woods before stopping to have a snack about mid-day. Rick checked his map and compass and prayed they would soon hit the small country road they had driven off of before.

After another hour Rick couldn’t take the silence anymore, “Carl? You okay?”

“Yeah,” Carl’s voice was unsteady, “I guess. I just…I wanna see mom.”

Rick couldn’t help but pull his son close, “I know.”

They kept on until they finally stumbled across a road. It looked sort of familiar so Rick hoped this was the road they needed. All they would need to do is follow it for a while until they found a sign.  He hated the idea of sleeping in the woods so they would have to find shelter or end up climb a tree again.

Finally a sign came into view that noted they were three miles form a town. Rick sighed as he checked it against his map. They had managed to steer themselves way off course but it was too late now to turn around.

“We should head to this place and rest for tonight. Tomorrow we’ll head out again.”

_Maybe we can find a working car_. That was probably causing them the biggest problem. If only they had a car then they could easily get back to the museum and search for the others.

The small town was nothing more than few houses and a gas station. By now the sky was beginning to darken and they could see walkers in the distance.

“Let’s check the station for anything,” Sadly it had already been picked clean and that worried him. _That means there could be other people coming back_.

It was too late to try and go any further. Using their flashlights they broke into one of the small old but well-kept houses which had two walkers that had been locked inside. They disposed of them and threw their corpses out into the backyard before barricading themselves in for the night.

Carl’s nose scrunched at the lingering stench of decaying flesh but managed to find some bedding delicately folded in a closet that was mostly clean. With his anxieties unyielding, Rick decided they should both sleep in the biggest bedroom which had a nice queen size bed.

“Do we have to?” Carl whined. Rick swallowed his exasperation.

“Yes, we can’t be separated it’s too dangerous.”

“Alright,” Carl sighed, “But don’t hog the covers.”

_Not an unreasonable request_ , he grinned.

“I make no promises.”

Lying on his side with his back to Carl, Rick could hear the sounds of walkers growling as they moved past.

_We can make it…together_.

As usual it turned out he was wrong…again.

**Author's Note:**

> As always any comments and kudos are appreciated.


End file.
